Hit and Hope
by Littleforest
Summary: Set post-Season Two. "Maybe this time you can get one of your precious scientists to clean up this mess for you, because I'm sure as hell not doing it anymore." Jack hits his limit with Global Dynamics, then he hits a literal wall when a scientist uses an untested device on him with disastrous consequences. Major Jack whump.
1. Part One

**Disclaimer** : ' **A Town Called Eureka' doesn't belong to me, and neither do the characters who live in said fictional town. Obviously.**

 **A/N** : Hello and welcome to my first, somewhat tentative foray into the Eureka fandom. Before you start to read, to introduce this story I probably need to explain a few things about where my interests lie (although if you've ever read any of my other stories, you probably already know). The short answer is that I like to write angst and whump - in relatively equal and undoubtedly large quantities.

The longer answer, however, is that I've always found the characters' backstories far more interesting than anything else, even more so when the show itself doesn't put any focus on them. With Sheriff Jack Carter, nothing much is mentioned about his past before Eureka (apart from his previous job and his ex-wife), so I had a relatively blank slate to work with. I've definitely taken some liberties with that (angst and whump-wise), and some of the things I've added to the little we _do_ know about him probably says more about me than I would like (I'm not a horrible person, I promise!). Even so, I hope I've at least kept the plot interesting for those who don't share my interest in Carter's potential backstory, or for those who don't like angst and whump as much as I do.

Anyway now that the blurb is out of the way, you can finally get on with reading the story. It's set sometime after Stark proposed to Allison at the end of Season 2, but other than that, the timeline is pretty open to interpretation. So without further ado, here it is. I hope you like what I've written as much as I've enjoyed writing it!

* * *

 **~ Hit and Hope ~**

 **Part One**

* * *

"Dammit, Todd, just put the weapon down!" Jack ordered, his gun fixed on the man with unerring control. "Put it down now!"

"You put yours down first!" the scientist – Todd – snapped back, with the kind of manic and out of control expression on his face that only _really_ crazy people could pull off. Todd didn't seem to care that Jack was pointing a gun at him either. In fact, he seemed more annoyed by the fact that his work had been interrupted than anything else.

Jack, for his part, kept his eyes fixed on the man, not even daring to take one more step into Todd's lab space. Crazy or not, Todd didn't look like he was going to make a move to put down the device in his hands - a device that definitely looked a _lot_ like a weapon – which meant Jack wasn't going to lower his gun either…

"Carter, do you really need to point that thing at him?" Stark asked casually, arms crossed as he leaned against the door frame of Todd's lab, and clearly not in the least bit concerned by the death ray gun – as Jack had immediately dubbed it in his head – currently being pointed at them by a deranged man sporting a white lab coat, thick goggles, and a ridiculous Doc Brown-style hairstyle.

Focused on the task at hand though, Jack ignored Stark and finally moved another step further into the room, eyes still fixed on Todd.

"Carter…" warned Allison cautiously. Jo and Fargo watched silently on behind him, but Jack wasn't feeling much support coming from the two of them either. Jack rolled his eyes. Stark, Fargo, Jo and Allison had clearly followed him to Todd's lab mainly, it seemed, to try and convince him to calm down.

Which of course only served to piss him off even more…

"Carter…" Stark warned in a voice so filled with exasperation that it immediately told Jack he wasn't taking this situation – or Jack himself – very seriously.

"Will you just shut up for once and let me do my job!" Jack snapped at Stark.

Stark scoffed but didn't make any further comments, apparently content to sit back and watch the 'fireworks'. Jack glanced at the others, but only Jo seemed to be considering actually doing anything to help.

In fact, after a few quiet seconds of clear indecision, Jo slowly made her way forward stood to the right of him, then silently raised her own gun and aimed it at Todd. The others didn't move, but Jack nodded at Jo; yeah, apparently she was the only person in the room who had any intention of helping him…

"Carter…" Allison began again, her tone faintly disappointed; which in her own, more passive way, meant she wasn't taking him seriously either. Great. Jack wanted to growl out in frustration when Allison shook her head and continued, "It's not what it looks like…"

"Are you kidding me?" he asked instead, gesturing his gun towards his target in a clear sign of intent that even Fargo couldn't miss. "This idiot builds a freaking death ray gun, shootsan intern, points it at _us_ , and you want to…what, hold hands with the guy?"

"Dr Jenkins isn't a threat," Allison told him, with the patience of someone trying to explain something relatively complicated to a slightly dense three-year old. "And that isn't a death-ray gun, Carter. His experiment - the one you're yelling at him to put down by the way- is a completely sanctioned project."

"It's a healing device," Fargo added, unable to stay quiet even in such a tense situation. "It's supposed to repair damaged skin tissue. The initial reports are showing that not only will it be able to heal fresh wounds in seconds without even leaving a mark, but that it will eventually able to heal old scars as well."

"Shut up, Fargo," Jo added, glaring at the young scientist who immediately closed his mouth.

"Bottom line, Carter, it isn't a weapon," Stark added, smiling infuriatingly as if amused by the fact that Jack didn't know what was going on.

"He shot someone with it!" Jack argued, making no move to lower his own weapon. "They were knocked unconscious!"

"And since waking up again, that person has suffered absolutely no long term ill-effects from the incident," Todd argued, a little bit of smugness flickering through his fear-filled expression now that he had realised that over half the room was on his side. "Or did you forget to check your facts before you came storming in here waving _your_ gun around?"

Jack shook his head in frustration but didn't back down. Actually, the fact that Allison and Stark seemed to agree with the smug bastard only made Jack want to shoot him more. Jack was getting really sick of the two of them defending arrogant, irresponsible, jackass scientists all the time…

"It's completely safe," Allison told him calmly.

"Right," Jack replied sarcastically. "How many times have I heard that one before?"

"Carter, you're completely overreacting," Stark added, rolling his eyes. "Just put down your gun."

"Look, I don't tell you how to do your jobs, okay?" Jack shot back. "Don't tell me how to do mine. Jo, you with me?"

"I'm with you, partner," Jo replied instantly, her own weapon – much larger than his own – fixed on their target. "On three?"

"Yep," Jack replied, eye focusing on his target. "You move in, I'll cover you."

"Jack…" Allison began again.

Jack ignored her, his attention focused on Todd. "Look, you have three seconds to put down the weapon, or my deputy is going to take it from you by force. And she might be small, but she could break your arm in three different ways using only her pinky finger and her thumb if she wanted to. So put it down." Jack sighed inwardly when Todd didn't move, then he began to count. "One. Two…"

"But I haven't done anything wrong!" The scientist protested. "Dr Blake, please talk some sense into this Neanderthal – "

"Neanderthal?" Jack growled, tightening his grip on his weapon. He took a step forward, gun raised, even though deep down he knew he wasn't going to need to shoot it. With Jo already moving in, it was only a matter of time before they had the smug bastard down on the ground while they read him his rights. Jack smiled to himself. At least some good was going to come from this…

"Don't come any closer!" Todd yelled, raising him own weapon – and there was no way in hell that Jack was buying that it was anything _but_ a weapon, especially since the man was aiming it straight at his head.

"Put it down, Todd," Jack said, careful to keep his words calm, trying to focus on his training. His heart was hammering in his chest as he took another step forward, his gun still raised, completely in sync with Jo as she moved in as well. It would be over in a second. He was in the zone now; all instinct and control.

Just one more step…

But before Jo could reach Todd, the scientist seemed to come to some sort of decision. After that, Jack saw everything happen almost in slow-motion.

He saw the exact moment that Todd decided to take his chances, the moment the man tightened his finger on what Jack assumed was the trigger on his death-ray thingy.

And then a second later, Jack saw the exact moment that a wave of _something_ shot out of the end of the weapon and made its way directly towards him.

And then it hit him, and all Jack knew was that he was flying backwards through the air.

"Carter!"

His body smacked against the wall at the back of the office with a loud thud, shaking him down to the bones and jarring his head so hard that he couldn't even form a coherent thought beyond 'ow'. He felt pain radiate through every inch of his back at the impact, and as his limp body slid down to the floor, he tried desperately to catch his breath, a task made all the more difficult by the fact that the wall had pretty much knocked all the breath out of him.

Jack shook his head slowly as he slowly sank down to the floor and tried to get his bearings, his lungs making a desperate effort to pull in air. The floor was softer than the wall, but not by much…

"God, Carter, are you okay?"

As he settled on the floor with his back against the wall, Jack closed his eyes, his head pounding in rhythm with his rapid heartbeat. Only half-aware of what had just happened, he slowly lifted a hand and rubbed at his aching chest. The trouble was that the fire in his back was still making it difficult to breathe, or think for that matter. There was a faint ringing in his ears and he couldn't work out if he was upside down or the right way up. He had a feeling he'd banged his head. Nothing was making much sense…

"Carter?" Allison repeated, her voice sounding far-away. "Are you okay?"

Jack opened his eyes again and immediately tried to move, but the dizziness made him want to puke.

"Sheriff…"

It hurt – it really, _really,_ hurt – but after a few seconds, and with no small amount of effort, Jack managed to move his legs slightly. When they twitched – albeit not entirely deliberately - Jack let out a huge breath, relief flooding through his body as it sunk in that at least he hadn't broken his back. He _could_ move, if he wanted to.

With that in mind, and groaning slightly at the pain that flared up, Jack immediately tried to pull himself back to his feet.

"Carter…"

Allison held out her hand to steady him, but Jack pulled away from her, stepping backwards almost until he hit the wall again. His whole body hurt, but there was no way in hell he was going to tell anyone that.

His head was starting to clear, and with clarity of thought came almost immediate anger.

Dammit, they'd taken the scientist's side _again_ , and Jack was more than a little pissed off at Stark and Allison in particular. Old, long buried feelings rose to the surface again, and Jack had no defences left to stop them this time.

Very suddenly, he wanted to go home, preferably before he punched something. He glanced sideways at Stark. Or someone…

"No," Jack shook his head forcefully, wincing as the moving caused sharp pain to shoot across his temple. He had no idea who he was talking to. Everything felt out of whack. "I'm fine, just…just leave me alone."

They were crowding around him now; Allison, Fargo, even Stark. He wanted to believe that they actually wanted to see if he was alright, but he couldn't help but think that the three of them – maybe even Jo as well - only cared about the stupid experiment that had just blasted him into the wall, and whether it might escape, or spread, or at the very least cause some sort of trouble to the town itself. He probably wasn't being fair to them all, but the truth was, he was long past the point of being fair.

Because they lied to him on a regular basis, or at the very least they actively hid things from him – things that he had a right to know about. Jack was sick to death of being the last person to find out anything. Death-rays, top-secret artefacts, Stark proposing to Allison again…

"That's it," he told them, closing his eyes as the dizziness rose up again. "I'm going home."

"Carter, you can't just…"

"I can," Jack interrupted as he opened his eyes again, careful to allow only his sincere anger to filter through in an attempt to cover up his fear. He pushed away the dizziness as best he could. "I can do whatever the hell I want. And right now, I want to go home." He paused and then pointed at Stark. "You know what? _You_ can take care of the crazy scientist for once. I'm done."

Stark rolled his eyes. "Carter – "

"Jo," Jack interrupted, calling out to his deputy, who had been in the process of trying to secure the scene.

"Yeah?" she asked a little unsurely. He was glad to see that she had Todd on the floor, her knee pressed firmly on his back and the death-ray gun well out of the man's reach. At least someone listened to him…

"Take me home," he said wearily, wobbling slightly as he walked forward to go and pick up his own gun, which he'd dropped when the burst of energy had flung him across the room.

"Take you home?" Jo asked, brow furrowed. "Now?"

She must have missed his argument with Allison – she had probably been too busy actually doing her job. Exactly like he was supposed to be doing, except the damn scientists made it so difficult sometimes that he almost wondered why he bothered at all.

He'd trained to be a US Marshall, spent years working hard and fighting harder, but in Eureka he was nothing but a glorified security guard crossed with a janitor, occasionally with a little bit of traffic warden added in for good measure. And god forbid anyone might actually thank him for his service to the town.

Instead, he was almost always painted as the bad guy - someone who constantly 'overreacted' to the insane stunts they pulled or simply ruined the 'fun'. Either that or he was a 'Neanderthal' - someone too stupid to even properly comprehend the potential benefits that could come from testing a freaking death ray gun.

Jack wasn't sure which was worse – probably too stupid to work it out, he thought bitterly - but he did know that neither attitude was good…

"Carter," Jo prompted, pulling Jack out of his thoughts. He shook his head in an effort to knock some sense back into his battered brain. "You want to go home?"

"Yeah," Jack replied. He pointed shakily to Todd, who was whimpering something about 'police brutality'. Jack shook his head. "Leave him, he's not worth it. Take me home. Now."

Because he wanted to storm out, but he knew that he couldn't manage it on his own, not with the way that his head was pounding and the fact that he felt dizzy and sick all at once. All he wanted was to go home and forget about his crappy day, but he at least had enough sense left to know that he probably shouldn't drive when he felt this bad…

"Shouldn't you get checked out first?" Jo asked, brow pinched in concern. She kept looking at the right side of his face. He wondered if he was bleeding.

"I'm fine," he ground out. "Just hit the wall a bit hard. Nothing's broken. S.A.R.A.H. can check me out properly when I get home if it'll make you feel better."

"You just got zapped –"

"By a healing device, apparently," Jack muttered bitterly, loud enough for everyone to hear him. "Maybe it can do something about my knee. Thing's been bothering me for weeks now."

His deputy remained annoyingly unconvinced, but Jack needed to get out of GD in the next few seconds, or he was going to blow...

"Please, Jo," he said, gesturing towards the door. Jo took his lead, but before he followed her, Jack walked gingerly over to the death-ray gun and picked it up from the floor. It looked innocuous, just like every other piece of technology that had nearly killed him in the last year.

With no small amount of anger but as much dignity as he could muster in his battered condition, Jack thrust the weapon into the unresisting arms of Stark and then turned back to his deputy, who was waiting for him in the doorway. She had her arms crossed, and he knew she would want him to get checked out before he left, that she was probably about to refuse to take him home until he did, but Jack wasn't exactly in an accommodating mood.

"Look, I'm going home now, with or without you, Jo," Jack said, careful not to wince, just in case she decided to take the decision out of his hands. "Up to you."

"With me then," Jo decided quickly, and Jack loved her for that. She moved up to him and then without even asking, she pulled his arm over her shoulder, allowing him to put some of his weight against her. "Come on then, partner."

"Jack, you don't need to go…" Allison began, but Jack had reached his limit.

"Yeah, I do," he replied, looking around the room. "Obviously you don't need me here. Let me know when you're ready to take me seriously."

"Carter…"

Jack paused to catch his breath slightly then looked back at Allison. "Maybe this time you can get one of your precious scientists to clean up this mess for you, because I'm sure as hell not doing it anymore."

And with that, he left, limping along with Jo as his crutch, clinging on to his last shred of dignity in a somewhat futile attempt to keep it intact.

* * *

"Ow, ow, ow," moaned Jack as he lowered himself carefully onto his couch. "Ow…"

" _How are you feeling, Sheriff Carter?"_ S.A.R.A.H. asked in that annoying robotic voice that Fargo had programmed for her. With S.A.R.A.H's help, he'd managed to convince Jo that he didn't need to see a doctor, but he had agreed to at least take the rest of the day off to recover. Despite his front, he hadn't really pushed against her demand very hard, offering a token resistance at best. The truth was, he was finding it harder and harder to come up with any good reasons to go back to work at all.

Jo, it seemed, shared that view, although for entirely different reasons. His deputy clearly – and not entirely without reason – didn't think he would look after himself, even though he had a computerised house watching and recording his every move.

After plenty of arguments and disapproving looks, all of which made Jack feel like an idiot all over again, Jo had reluctantly agreed to back to work with a promise to return at precisely 3 o'clock so that she could make sure he hadn't died in the meantime.

Jack sighed as his body relaxed against the soft cushions of the couch.

It was only once she'd left that Jack had finally allowed the pain to finally show on his face. It _hurt_ , and it was exhausting to have to hide it.

Thankfully Zoe was at school for the rest of the afternoon, and he vaguely recalled that she had some plans with friends later on that night, so at least he had the house for himself for a bit. Now that he was alone, Jack sighed again and allowed his body to sink deeper into the couch as he closed his eyes. He could finally rest in peace…

" _Sheriff Carter,"_ S.A.R.A.H repeated, forcing Jack to immediately revise his definition of 'peace'. He cracked his eyes open. _"How are you feeling? As I informed Deputy Sheriff Lupo, I don't detect any broken bones, but I am picking up a number of new contusions…"_

"Everything hurts," he replied in an attempt to satisfy his nosy house, turning to lie on his side since leaning against his back was excruciating in his current condition. "But it's nothing that I can't handle."

" _Shall I call a doctor for you?"_ she asked. He'd already had this argument with her – and Jo – but his mind was made up. He didn't want the fuss of seeing a doctor. He just wanted to lie on his couch and wallow about his crappy day in peace...

"No," Jack replied, sighing slightly. Then he decided to push his luck. "But you could order pizza for me?"

" _I'm afraid that isn't within my capabilities,"_ S.A.R.A.H. replied without missing a beat.

That made Jack laugh, which was a miracle in itself. "Yeah, sure it isn't. Well, it's a good job I'm not really hungry then, isn't it?"

In fact he was starting to feel really…weird. Not nauseous exactly, but not well either. He opened his eyes and tried to move, but found that his body wouldn't obey him. In fact, as the room started to spin, making him feel sick and dizzy all at once, Jack wondered whether he'd hit his head a little harder than he'd originally thought…

" _Sheriff Carter,"_ S.A.R.A.H said suddenly. _"Your vital signs seem to be fluctuating. Are you okay?"_

But Jack couldn't answer. He couldn't even hear her anymore.

" _Sheriff Carter…"_

His eyes were already closed as he fell into the darkness, down, down, until he knew no more.

* * *

Allison hated feeling guilty.

Of course, with the unique pressures that she faced at GD it wasn't exactly an uncommon feeling, but she hated it nonetheless. The way it burned up inside her chest for days on end, the way it niggled at her mind until she was forced to confront it – to do _something_ in order to make some sort of amends. In her line of work, and with the decisions she faced daily, she was very well acquainted with the feeling of guilt – however undeserved it often was - but even so, it felt a little different this time.

Maybe it was because it was Carter. She knew she had been treated him poorly for the last few weeks, although she still wasn't sure why.

Or, maybe it was because – unlike some of the other times when the decisions had left her feeling guilty – this time she knew, unequivocally so, that she was entirely in the wrong.

When she had voiced her concerns about the disagreement with Carter, Stark had immediately disagreed of course, but then he and Carter _never_ agreed on anything, almost on principle. They were very different men, which made it all the more frustrating that she liked both of them. Of course that feeling of being torn between the two had no doubt contributed to her recent treatment of Carter – who had never been anything other than a very good friend – but it certainly wasn't fair of her.

Carter definitely deserved better.

In the end, it was her guilt that had led her back to the room where Carter had been shot, long after Carter himself had gone home. This time, she had come armed with a reluctant Stark and a team of their best and brightest in tow, all tasked with trying to work out what the hell had happened.

This time she was determined not to let Carter down. She would right her wrong and then she would apologise, and hope that Carter could eventually forgive her…

"Dammit," cursed Stark, typing frantically as he double-checked his findings. Allison moved over to the station he was working at, almost reluctant to find out what he had discovered.

"What?" Allison replied, dread filling her stomach.

"Carter was right," Stark replied. "I _hate_ it when he's right.

"What are you talking about, Nathan?" she asked.

"The device that Dr Jenkins was building," began Stark. "The one he was waving in our faces a couple of hours ago. It wasn't even close to the device he laid out in his plans. He's been working on something entirely different to what we thought."

"What about the reports he's been filing?" Allison asked, glancing over his shoulder. Dammit, Carter _was_ right.

"Faked," Stark replied, "He's installed a clever little program into his equipment in order to fool it all into thinking he was on target, when in reality he was doing something completely different."

"Doing what?" Allison asked, desperation filtering into her tone. "And if it wasn't a healing device, what the hell did he shoot Carter with?"

Stark gave her a grim look. "I have no idea."

* * *

 **A/N –** So how was it? Does anyone out there want to read more? If so, I'd really love to hear from you, even it's just to say hi. I've really taken a liking to the strange, fun, wonderful show that is 'A Town Called Eureka' of late, but I know the show actually finished a while ago so I hope I'm not the only one left who's still interested in those characters! Anyway, updates may be sporadic, but I'll try my best to get the next chapter out to you fairly quickly. Until then, and as always, thanks for reading!


	2. Part Two

**Disclaimer** : ' **A Town Called Eureka' doesn't belong to me, and neither do the characters who live in said fictional town. Obviously.**

 **A/N** : So, here's part two. This, admittedly, is a shorter chapter than the last one, but it still contains plenty of things that are crucial to the overall plot of the story. Thank you to everyone who read, favourited and reviewed the last chapter. I hope you all like this one as well!

* * *

 **~ Hit and Hope ~**

 **Part Two**

* * *

Jack woke to pain.

It wasn't just any pain either. It was an earth-shattering, nausea inducing, white-hot, blinding pain, the sort of pain that made it difficult to even work out _what_ was hurting, let alone why. In fact, it was so intense that it had momentarily overloaded his brain, making him unable to even comprehend his own name. God, it was agony…

" _Sheriff Carter, don't worry, help is on the way…"_

The words managed to filter through the wall of pain, but they didn't make much sense. Help? Who? And on the way where?

Jack groaned, and any semblance of curiosity fled as quickly as it had come. The pain was building to a crescendo now, moving from the top of his head right down to the tips of his toes and then back up again. It felt almost like the pain was searching for something. Some sort of outlet maybe…

"AH!" Jack yelled suddenly, as the pain shot to his right arm. He clenched his eyes shut, but a few tears still leaked through. He didn't care though; in fact, he barely even noticed. All he could focus on was the agony that was building in his arm, pressuring his muscles, his bones, until…

SNAP.

Jack's eyes snapped open in shock, and the breath was torn from his throat to the point where he _literally couldn't breathe_.

In desperation and through instinct alone, Jack forced a breath in, but it was shallow, and it did nothing to distract him from the white-hot mess of pain that was his arm.

Internally Jack let out a string of expletives that did nothing to give him any relief. Externally, he had the vague impression that he was screaming. The pain, it was getting worse…

As he tried to ride through the seemingly unending agony, Jack forced himself to take another breath, and another, and another, but he already had a feeling that even staying conscious wasn't set to be a battle he could win. The pain was too much and he was too tired of fighting it. Dammit, it hurt, it hurt, it hurt…

It _hurt…_

Unconsciousness came quickly then, and this time, when the darkness took him, Jack was glad.

* * *

"Carter? Oh god, Carter, are you okay?"

Jack could feel someone shaking his arm – his good arm – but since he didn't want to wake up just yet, even though he couldn't quite grasp _why,_ he did his best to ignore them. Unfortunately, whoever it was had a different idea…

"S.A.R.A.H? Have you run a scan on him?" said the voice.

" _I have Dr Blake. The Sheriff has numerous contusions on his back, face, chest and arms, and he has a compound fracture of the right ulna."_

"A broken arm?" the voice said again. "What the hell happened? Who did this to him?"

" _There were no intruders."_

"Are you saying that he did this to himself…?"

" _There were no intruders."_

"But –"

"Go…way…" Jack mumbled, his throat a little hoarse. He didn't know who it was, friend or foe, but they were making the pain come back and he didn't want that.

"Carter!" the voice said, and he could feel them move closer to him. "Are you okay?"

"Go…away," he repeated, still refusing to open his eyes, even though it had become abundantly clear now that the pain was coming back and that there was nothing he could do about it.

"Come on, Carter," the voice said, talking much more softly now, although Jack could still sense a touch of panic there too. "Open your eyes for me."

"Don't wanna…" he replied with a mumble as he began to assess his own condition. Thankfully he mostly felt numb, which, compared to the last thing he could remember, made a nice change.

"Come on," she cajoled. "I've just given you a shot of my own special cocktail of pain meds, so you won't feel a thing, I promise."

He had to admit, his body _was_ feeling a lot better than it had a couple of hours ago. In fact, he was struggling to feel much at all. His body had that weight-free, floaty feeling, like he was flying through clouds….

He opened his eye a crack, blinking hard at the bright light. It took a while for his vision to adjust, but when it did, he wasn't really surprised by what he could see.

Allison? What was she doing here? For that matter, where was _here?_ He blinked again, but his vision was blurry, out of focus. Like he'd been hit in the head one too many times…

"That's it," she praised. "Now keep those eyes open. We need you to stay awake."

That got his attention. We…?

"Yeah, stop lazing around, Carter," came a male voice from his other side. Jack groaned.

"Stark?" Jack said hoarsely. He turned his head accusing towards Allison. "What's he doing here?"

"He's trying to help," she replied quietly. "What happened to you, Carter?"

"Good…question," Jack muttered, glancing down at his immobilised arm. Allison was wrapping some kind of blue fabric around his forearm, which made him wince, even though he couldn't feel a thing. Weird…

"Carter?"

"Sorry," he mumbled quietly as he shook his head and tried to pull himself upright. She gently nudged him back down.

"Lie down," she reminded him. "You need to keep still for this to work."

"For what to wor – OW!"

The fabric tightened around his arm suddenly, finally pulling away the numbness and pushing the pain past the point where pain meds would make any difference. He screwed his eyes shut, clenching his good hand as he tried not to cry out. God, it hurt…

"What the…hell is it that blue thing…doing?" Jack asked through gritted teeth, his voice about an octave higher than usual. He tried to blink his eyes open, but couldn't focus on much with his blurry vision anyway.

"Just hold on, Carter," Allison replied, her arm resting gently on his shoulder. Jack didn't find much comfort in the gesture but he couldn't find the energy to shrug her hand away. God his arm hurt…

"How…much…longer?" he asked, eyes closed again in an attempt to keep the tears of pain at bay.

"Stop being a baby, Carter," Stark said from the other side of the couch.

"Shut up," Jack ground out, but he couldn't muster a better retort, not with the stabbing pain in his head, an agony that was matched only by the unbearable pain in his arm.

"Nearly done, Carter," Allison said. "Three, two, one…"

And then suddenly, the pain in his arm left, and Jack think again; he could breathe again. He could feel a dull ache there still, but nothing like before…

"It's still broken," Allison told him before he could ask. "But that should keep it immobilised, relatively pain-free, and help speed along the healing process."

"How?" Jack asked. He lifted the arm up and was surprised by how light-weight it felt. It definitely didn't feel like a broken arm anymore…

Allison lifted an eyebrow. "Do you really want to know?"

Jack flushed slightly and decided to change the subject before he gave Stark another reason to laugh at him.

"So what happened?" he asked them, his voice hoarse and scratchy.

"We don't know," Allison replied, brow furrowed. "Jo and Fargo are in the kitchen interrogating S.A.R.A.H. as we speak."

"Did someone break in?" Jack asked, mind working furiously. He'd pissed a lot of people off during his time in Eureka, but he didn't think he'd pushed anyone to the point of actually attacking him…

"No," Jo said as she returned to the living room. "Hey, Carter. How're you feeling?"

"Like I've been run over by a truck," Jack replied honestly. "What's S.A.R.A.H. saying? Who did this?"

" _As I have already told Deputy Lupo, I did not detect anyone else in the house about from you, Sheriff Carter,"_ S.A.R.A.H. said.

"And before you ask, her programming isn't malfunctioning," Fargo added as he joined them in the room. "I've checked the bio logs, and she's right. You were alone."

"So what happened then?" Jack asked, pulling himself into a sitting position and ignoring the way the movement made his head swim. "Did I fall?"

"See for yourself," Fargo said, gesturing towards the T.V. The footage from S.A.R.A.H's security cameras started playing immediately. The others moved closer but Jack was frozen, his eyes fixed on the screen. He rubbed at his face self-consciously as he watched his past self move immediately towards the couch. Jo must've just left...

Jack frowned. He hadn't realised how bad he'd looked earlier on. No wonder Jo had put up such a fight to get him to go and see a doctor…

"Not looking so good there, Carter," Stark commented.

Jack scowled. "Shut up…"

"He's right," Allison added before Jack could argue.

"Well," Jack grumbled. "Whose fault is that?"

They didn't answer, and Jack didn't push them. He was still pissed at them, and they knew it. He sighed and let it go though. He had bigger problems to deal with after all…

"Did you just pass out?" Jo asked, gesturing towards the Jack on screen, whose body had just gone still on the couch.

"No," Jack replied petulantly, though he was trying to wrack his brain to decide if he actually had passed out, or if he was just sleeping. Honestly, his brain was a bit fuzzy. Not wanting to look even more pathetic though, he continued. "I think I was going to take a nap. Being thrown into a wall takes a lot out of a guy..."

"Right," Jo replied with an eye roll.

"Woah," Fargo interrupted, pointing to the screen. "What's that weird glowing thing?"

"It's moving up and down your body," Allison said. "That's – "

"Weird?" Jack offered, his own gaze transfixed. It was all starting to come back to him now. He watched as the light began to focus on the other Jack's arm, so it probably wouldn't be long until…

SNAP.

Jack snapped his eyes closed, unable to prevent a hard flinch at the noise. Dammit, that had hurt…

"Jack…" Allison began, but she clearly couldn't find the words and quickly grew quiet again. Jack kept his eyes closed. He knew what was going to happen next, and he couldn't help but feel a little ashamed. He hadn't handled the pain very well at all…

"That's…" began Stark, but apparently even he was a little lost for words. "That was really odd."

"Odd? The Sheriff's arm just broke, all by itself!" Fargo exclaimed. "That's so…gross!"

As lacking in tact as Fargo's words predictably were, at least they broke the ice. As the small group began to murmur potential theories back and forth, Jack finally opened his eyes and focused his gaze back on the video on the screen. Past him _had_ passed out now, but Jack could see bruises beginning to form on the face, appearing as if from nowhere. Back in the present, Jack lifted his good hand to his face. Strange. He hadn't noticed the other injuries…

"…I mean, it's _really_ gross," Fargo was saying. "Can you imagine if it was you, and your arm just broke all by itself…?"

"Shut up, Fargo," Jo said, nudging him hard enough to make him stumble. Then she focused back on the real Jack, not the one lying unconscious on the screen. "You doing okay, partner?"

"Umm…yeah?" Jack replied uncertainly, eyes still fixed on the image of himself. "I mean…my arm feels okay now. And the rest of me isn't too bad, I guess. What the hell _was_ that?"

"It looked like some kind of localised energy beam, projecting outwards from your body," Stark commented.

Allison nodded. "We'll have to run some tests back at GD – "

"No!" Jack interrupted immediately, although even he didn't really know why he was protesting so vehemently. It probably had something to do with the latent anger that he still had towards everything GD and science-y but there was no way in hell they were experimenting on him…

"Carter…?" Jo began with a concerned frown.

"I mean…" He backtracked slightly. "I don't want to go back to G.D. If you need to run some tests, you can do them here. S.A.R.A.H. will help, won't you S.A.R.A.H.?"

" _Of course I will, Sheriff Carter."_

"There, it's settled then," Jack said with a fake smile. He lifted out his arms, ignoring the now mild tinge in his broken one. "Test away."

Stark rubbed at his jaw in thought. "We'll need to get Dr Jenkins here – "

"What?" Jack interrupted incredulously. "You want to bring Todd to my house? The idiot who _shot me into a wall?"_

"Do you honestly think the two events are unrelated, Carter?" Stark asked.

"No," Jack replied immediately, although in truth, he hadn't really thought about it at all. "Do you really need him here though? He _shot_ me. Can't you just, I don't know…examine his gun thingy and work out what it did?"

"We've already tried that, Carter," Allison replied patiently. Evidently she agreed with Stark. Again. "We just don't have enough information to form any solid conclusions about what he intended to do with the device. The specifications that he's submitted don't match the practical design, so we think he's been going off the book with his developments."

"Oh, what a surprise," Jack replied sarcastically. "A scientist who thinks they're above the rules. Who would've thought it…?"

"I'll go and get him," Jo said, moving towards the door.

"No," Jack replied with a forceful shake of his head. "This is my house, and I don't want him here. If you people want to talk to him, I can't stop you, but I'm telling you - he's not taking one step through that door."

Jack stood up from the couch – without any clear idea why – but he quickly regretted the sudden movement when his head swam, his knees wobbled, and the ground seemed to rise up to meet him…

"Easy, Carter," came a voice from behind him. Strong arms grabbed his shoulders and gently lowered him back down to the couch. It took him a few seconds before he realised it was Stark.

Dammit, Jack cursed in his head. Not only had he practically fainted, but Stark, of all people, just _had_ to be the one to catch him. Could this day get any worse…?

"Just sit tight, Carter," Jo said quietly, patting his shoulder gently. "We'll fix this."

Jack wanted to argue more, to make them listen to _him_ for once, but he couldn't.

The pain was back again, arriving with a suddenness that took his breath away and growing to almost unimaginable levels right in the centre of his head in particular. Within seconds he knew that whatever it was that he was fighting, he was definitely going to lose the battle…

"Oh, God, Carter," Allison said, moving closer. Her voice sounded far away. "You're glowing again."

Jack almost rolled his eyes – because _of course_ he was glowing - but the pain was overtaking all his senses, making it difficult to even keep himself in the room with all of them. He was shaking, and his whole body felt out of his control, as if he was watching it on the TV again. The blackness was already creeping up on the edges of his vision, and he very suddenly wanted nothing more than to surrender to the dark and let someone else worry about everything for once…

And since he really didn't know what else to do, Jack allowed his eyes to flutter shut, and that's exactly what he did.

* * *

 **A/N -** So how was it? I hope everyone seems in character, and that they "sound" authentic to the show. As a Brit, I find it quite difficult to make Americans actually sound American. Hopefully I'm doing okay so far, but if anything seems out of place, please do let me know! For now though, and until next time, thanks for reading!


	3. Part Three

**Disclaimer** : ' **A Town Called Eureka' doesn't belong to me, and neither do the characters who live in said fictional town. Obviously.**

 **A/N** : Hello and welcome to the newest chapter in this little tale. This instalment follows directly on from the last chapter and will give you _some_ answers, although don't expect me to explain everything all at once - I've got to do something to keep you all interested after all! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, and I really hope you like it, so without further ado...enjoy!

* * *

 **~ Hurt and Hope ~**

 **Part Three**

* * *

"Carter!" Alison called, shaking his uninjured arm. "Carter, come on!"

"He's unconscious," Jo said, moving to his other side. She checked his pulse. "He's alive. Breathing seems shallow though. And his skin's really warm…"

"S.A.R.A.H.?"Alison asked frantically, trying to temper her panic as best she could so that she didn't lose it completely. "Report."

" _The Sheriff's breathing is rapid and indeed shallow, and his heart-rate has increased well beyond normal parameters,"_ she replied dutifully. _"He is not in immediate danger, however if his condition continues to deteriorate, the stress it will put on his body will cause him to…"_

"Crash," Alison finished, her mind already working on a solution as she watched the glow increase across Carter's body to the point where they could barely even make out his form anymore. The trouble was, even with her high IQ, she couldn't think of anything that would fix this…

"Something's happening," Jo told them, nudging Alison's arm and knocking her out of her thoughts. "I think it's…"

"The glow's starting to dissipate," Fargo interrupted, adjusting his glasses as he moved tentatively closer. Alison had forgotten he was there. "That wasn't so bad…"

"Yes, but look," Jo said, pointing to Jack's face. As the glow began to fade away, they could make out Carter's face again, revealing something far more disturbing than anything even they – with their combined experience of all things strange - could have imagined…

There were bruises where there hadn't been bruises before, and a cut, just above Jack's right eyebrow, that looked really nasty, possibly infected, and _definitely_ hadn't been there before.

"That is so weird…" Fargo said. "It's as if…"

But the others never found out exactly what he was going to say, because Fargo's words were drowned out when Carter gasped loudly.

Instinctively they all moved immediately closer, and Alison was on her knees by Carter's head in seconds. She glanced up at her fiancé, but if Nathan was bothered by the move, he didn't show it. In fact, if she wasn't mistaken, he seemed as concerned as the rest of them…

"Carter…" Alison began, finding it difficult to hide her desperation. She took one of his hands in hers. It felt clammy. Cold. "Carter, can you hear me?"

* * *

"Carter…can you hear me?"

Jack moaned – a long, drawn out sound that he wasn't even sure was strictly conscious - and visibly tensed, clenching his eyes even more tightly shut. God, it hurt. _Everything_ hurt…

"Make it stop…" he mumbled, not really sure who he was talking to. "Please…"

"S.A.R.A.H.?" he heard someone ask.

" _The Sheriff's vital signs are starting to stabilise,"_ she confirmed. _"I believe he is simply returning to consciousness, which is what appears to be causing the discomfort he is currently experiencing."_

 _Discomfort?_ Jack thought incredulously. It felt like there were a thousand knives all poking at him at the same time. And his head…

"Can you give him something for the pain?" someone asked.

Jack almost nodded, although he still hadn't quite regained control of his body. He settled for another moan, which he hoped would help to get his point across. Drugs definitely sounded good…

"No, I can't," came Alison's response. Jack almost screamed in frustration. "I've already given him more than the recommended dose. By rights, that alone should've knocked him out."

Obviously not, Jack thought bitterly. Thankfully the pain was starting to lessen a little bit; at least enough for him to feel a bit more like himself again. His head and ribs still hurt, but he had a feeling that was a more…normal kind of pain.

"Another effect of the device, I'm sure," Stark mused. Jack almost groaned again, but didn't want to give the man the satisfaction of knowing he'd got to him. "How Todd can call himself a scientist, I don't know…"

Todd? Now why did that name sound familiar…? Jack bit back another groan. His head was aching a son of a bitch, but it was all starting to come back to him now…

"Actually," Jo began. "That was exactly Carter's point. Todd is actually way more typical of the way scientists behave around here than I think any of you realise. You assume that everyone approaches science with the same care and cautiousness that you do," She paused, glancing at Fargo. "Well, maybe not Fargo, but you get my point. The thing is, you're wrong. Every day we come across someone _not_ being careful. Just because someone has a high IQ, doesn't mean they're not capable of being an idiot."

"That's…my girl," Jack muttered, finally blinking his eyes open. It was bright, but not too bright. He wondered if someone had turned down the lights.

"I'm not your girl," Jo replied, but a relieved smile broke through her scowl. "How're you feeling, partner?"

Jack blinked hard in an attempt to dispel the slightly dizzy, achy feeling in his head. It didn't work…

"Like I got hit by a truck." Despite the pain, he managed to keep his eyes open, and squinted slightly, trying to get his bearings. "What…happened?"

"You don't remember?" Alison asked, frowning in worry as she watched his bruised and battered face scrunch up in confusion. He thought hard, but the memories were still all over the place and didn't seem to make much sense.

"So I'm guessing I _didn't_ get hit by a truck then?" Jack closed his eyes slowly, then opened them again. Then he looked down at himself, at the room and then finally at the four people watching them. Something finally clicked in his foggy mind, and the memories started to make sense at last.

"Carter…?"

Damn Todd...

He swallowed hard. "I…uh…think I remember now. I didn't get hit by a truck, did I? I got hit by a death ray gun when one of _your_ people went off the deep end."

Stark rolled his eyes. "Will you stop calling it that, Carter? If you had been hit by a death ray gun, you would be _dead."_

"Shut up," Jack mumbled. He closed his eyes briefly, but forced himself to open them again. Even though the sharp pain had gone, his entire body still ached. He wondered how many more injuries he had now. Subtly, he began to test each of his main limbs, wiggling them slightly. Nothing seemed broken, apart from his already strapped up arm of course…

"Oh, come on, Carter –" Stark began with a smirk.

"Will you please just shut up?" Jack muttered, his voice more than loud enough for the other man to hear him.

"You shut up…" shot back Stark.

"Alright, that's enough," Jo told them both. "Arguing isn't helping anyone, so stop it. Both of you."

"What _will_ help then?" Jack replied hoarsely, and there was a definite touch of desperation in his voice, even though he wished there wasn't.

"Well, first of all I think we need to know why Dr Jenkins' device is choosing these particular injuries," Fargo mused, moving closer to Jack. Jack batted him away, but even that action was weak. Fargo carried on. "If we can work out where it's getting its information, we might be able to stop the connection. So, is it random, or is it drawing on Carter's own past experiences?"

"That's actually a good point, Fargo," Stark said. "So, Carter, you ever broken your arm before?"

Jack grimaced as he tried to pull himself up on the couch slightly. Even so, he kept his gaze down. "That's none of your business."

"Carter, don't be an idiot -" Stark replied with an eye roll.

"Nathan," Alison interrupted with a warning glare at him, clearly wanting to head off yet another argument between the two men.

"Carter," Jo continued, clearly also fed up with all the bickering. "It'll help us to know. So at the risk of sounding like Stark, don't be an idiot. Please, just tell us if there's any similarities."

"Fine," Jack scowled. God, he did _not_ want to do this. "I broke my arm when I was ten. Then again when I was sixteen." Jack held up his current broken arm. "Same arm."

"It is going in order of your past injuries then?" Alison mused. "Starting at ten years old and then moving through the years…"

"No," Jack said immediately. He sighed when they looked at him expectantly. "That wasn't the first time I was seriously injured. And I got a few other injuries when I broke my arm the first time as well, and I'm not feeling any of them at the moment."

Although now that he mentioned it, his ribs _were_ starting to feel a little tender...

"Like what?" Alison asked.

"What do you mean?" Jack asked, even though he understood exactly what she was asking.

"What other injuries did you have at the time?" she clarified, ignoring Stark's eye-roll.

Jack sighed. "From what I can remember…" He hesitated, then decided to just go for it. "…I broke two ribs, sprained my ankle and ended up with a mild concussion as well. Brain was a bit fuzzy at the time though, and I was only young, so I have no idea how accurate that is."

"Shit, Carter, what happened?" Stark asked.

"I, uh…I fell down the stairs," Carter replied uncomfortably. "All I can remember is that it hurt like a son of a bitch going down, and that I didn't want to do it again."

Jack kept his eyes down, clearly willing them not to push him on his answer. Thankfully they seemed to sense his reluctance and moved on.

"What about all your other injuries then?" Alison asked. "The bruises on your face for example?"

"Could be from my past," Jack replied with a shrug that sent a sharp pain through his ribs. He persevered. "Hard to tell though, because I've been hit in the face quite a lot over the years."

"But what do you think, Carter?" Stark pushed. "Do you think they'd random generations from the device, or do you think the device is deliberately choosing injuries that you've had before?"

"I'm obviously no expert, but if I had to guess…" Jack hesitated. "I'd say they were from my past, though maybe not in any particular order. The broken arm's just too much of a coincidence though. It was exactly like this the first time I broke it as well."

"Okay, Carter," Jo began. "So if that's the case, what else can we expect then, injury-wise?"

Jack couldn't help it. He laughed, but it was such a bitter laugh that no one else seemed to find any amusement in it.

"Are you kidding me? Well, let's see, I've been blown up, shrunk, had half my arm vanish, and I've been thrown into a wall and knocked unconscious by yet another 'experiment' gone belly up," he scowled at them. "Oh, and that was all just in the last week."

"Well, that's helpful," Stark commented sarcastically.

That pissed Jack off. "Well, what exactly do you want me to say - ?"

"How about you start with the most serious injuries," Alison interrupted, shooting a glare towards her husband-to-be. "The ones that are likely to cause us the most problems if they make an appearance."

He shifted again and tried not to grimace as his head swam.

"Carter?" Alison prompted, brow furrowed. Dammit, she'd noticed.

Jack sighed and made to answer the question. "Fine. Well, the worst injury is probably the time I was shot in the abdomen. That happened about ten years ago, on the job. It wasn't a through and through, and I think the bullet ricocheted around a bit in there because apparently it did quite a bit of damage. That was a bad one."

"Okay…" Alison said, although to Jack's experienced eye, she seemed a bit too pale for his liking. Still he carried on.

"I was also in a pretty bad car accident when I was in high school that left me with a broken collarbone, three bruised ribs, and yet another concussion," he thought for a moment. "That was probably my sixth broken bone by that point in my life actually…and my third concussion, I think."

"Shit, Carter," Stark said, whistling. "Were you clumsy as a kid or something?"

"Or something," Jack replied bitterly, his expression a little dark. He did _not_ like thinking about that time in his life, and he hated that Todd's stupid device was bringing it all back up.

"Right," Jo said, frowning a little at his expression and what it might mean. "Anything else?"

Jack nodded. "I was also shot in the shoulder once too, but that was a through and through, and I got help pretty quickly that time as well so it wasn't really an issue." He paused again. "Other than that, I don't think there was anything else really serious until I got to Eureka. I'm sure S.A.R.A.H. can track down a list of those for you. In fact, she probably has my entire medical history on file."

Alison sighed in frustration. "Damn, I should've thought of that. It's obvious now you've said it…"

"Well, if you need something obvious, I'm your man," Jack replied with a scowl. With all the aftermath of the device, he'd mostly forgotten why he was pissed off at them all, but all those feelings were coming back with a vengeance now.

"Carter, I didn't mean it like – "

"Forget about it," Jack said, waving it off, and forgetting about his broken arm and bruised torso in the process. He gasped.

"Carter?" Alison said, immediately picking up on his discomfort. "Is it your arm?"

"My chest," Jack mumbled, trying to shift slightly into a more comfortable position. "Hurts."

"Let me take a look," she said, immediately going to pull at his t-shirt. Jack tried to move back on the couch, but only seemed to jostle his best more. God, he really had a bad feeling about his ribs…

"Carter, stop being a stubborn jerk and let me help," Alison replied. Stark smirked at that until Jo elbowed him in the stomach.

"Seriously though, Carter," Jo replied, though she too look concerned. "No need to be shy about it. It's nothing we haven't seen before."

"Speak for yourself," muttered Fargo. Jo elbowed _him_ as well for good measure, then turned her attention back to Jack with a pointed look that told him she wasn't going to back down this time.

He may not be a genius but he was smart enough to know when he was beat.

Jack sighed. "Fine."

Under the watchful eyes of Alison and Jo – and the much more reluctant eyes of Fargo and Stark - he began to pull off his t-shirt. At first he struggled to get it over his shoulders, hampered as he was by the broken arm and tight chest, but he refused to ask for help, even though he could tell Alison was desperate to give it.

By the time he finally wrestled the shirt over his head, he was out of breath and sweating – a sure sign that something was definitely wrong with him – but at least he'd done it by himself.

As he released a shallow, shaky breath, Jack allowed the t-shirt to drop and lifted his head to look back up at his worried friends. Of course even though he expected it to be bad, he didn't expect quite the reaction he got. Alison gasped, her hand immediately flying to her mouth.

"Woah…" Fargo said.

"Shit, Carter…" Stark added.

Jo was silent, which told him more than her words ever could.

"Carter…" Alison began, her eyes wide. "Did you _actually_ get hit by a truck?"

"Not that I know of," he replied with a frown. Then he looked down at his own chest to see what all the fuss was about.

Ah. It _was_ bad. Almost the entirety of the right side of his chest was covered in bruises, which went some way to explaining why his ribs hurt so much. In fact, he had a feeling that it was probably the rest of the fallout from the stairs incident when he'd first broken his arm.

"Well, at least this answers the question of whether it's mimicking my own past injuries," Jack said lightly, trying to ignore how exposed he felt.

"You remember this one then?"

"The stairs thing, I think," Jack replied, eyes dropping down.

Alison sighed. "So we need to wrap those ribs then."

Jack nodded, but didn't say anything. He just hoped to hell she wouldn't push him to talk about what had happened that day.

"Sit up then, Carter," she said, moving forwards. "It's probably better to get this over with."

Jack did as he was told, albeit reluctantly.

"You're not going to use that blue fabric stuff again, are you?" he asked apprehensively. Because that would hurt…

Alison shook her head. "No. There's too much of a risk that it would restrict your breathing. I'll just have to go with the old-fashioned method."

So she did. He wasn't sure where she got all the medical supplies – his own first aid kit definitely wasn't that extensive – but she worked quickly, binding his ribs tightly enough to keep them from moving around, although not so tight that he couldn't breathe. Sometimes he forgot how good a doctor she was, but today definitely wasn't one of those days.

Of course today he also had other things on his mind.

"So," he began, shifting as he tried to pull his t-shirt back on again. He cleared his throat self-consciously and tried to ignore his growing headache. "What now?"

"We try to find out what's happening to you, and try to stop it from happening again," Stark said.

"First thing we should do is find Dr Todd Jenkins," Jo said, clenching her fists. "And I volunteer to do the searching."

"Just don't hurt the idiot," Jack said, to surprised looks. He raised his eyebrows. "What? I know her too well."

"Fine," Jo replied, but there was a glint in her eyes that said she would be finding a way to get around that order as soon as she left the house.

"Fargo," Jack said, "Go with her."

"What?" said Fargo and Jo simultaneously, although Fargo's voice was more like a squeak. Jo rolled her eyes at him and then turned her head back to her partner.

"You need backup," Jack said, his voice as stern as he could make it. "And since I'm out of commission, he'll have to do. Sherriff's orders."

Of course they both knew that Jo didn't need backup, especially from someone like Fargo. The truth was, Jack was just hoping that if Fargo tagged along, Jo wouldn't be able to hurt Todd because she would have her hands too full trying to stop Fargo touching something he shouldn't be touching.

It was a stupid plan, but he knew it would work. So did Jo.

"Fine," Jo replied with a scowl. He could tell from her expression that she knew exactly what he was thinking. She turned to Fargo, who gulped. "Come on then, let's go."

"O-okay," Fargo stuttered. He shot them one more desperate look before allowing Jo to usher him out of the front door.

Of course, Jack immediately regretted the decision to let them both leave when a blanket of silence fell over the remaining occupants.

Judging by the uncomfortable looks on both Stark and Alison, he wasn't the only one.

Stark cleared his throat. "Well, I think I'll go back to my lab and see if I can get anything else from the device."

"Nathan…" Alison began as her fiancé stood up.

"You can go with him, if you want," Jack told Alison quietly, shifting on the sofa in an effort to get more comfortable. "I'll be fine. S.A.R.A.H. can keep an eye on me - you know, make sure I don't die."

"Don't be an idiot, Carter," Alison said, and Jack was hard-pressed to suppress the flinch her words caused. "I'm staying. You're going to need a human around if it happens again."

"When," he corrected. "Not if." But he didn't argue with her decision to stay. Part of him relished the fact that she had chosen him over Stark, even if it wasn't a romantic decision but a practical one.

"I'm not going, Carter," she said firmly.

"Well, I am," Stark said, walking over to Alison. He gave her a quick kiss – Jack did his best to avert his eyes – and then made his way over to the door and left.

And then there were two.

" _Shall I heat up some food for you, Sheriff Carter?"_

Make that three.

"No thanks, S.A.R.A.H.," Jack replied. "Not hungry."

Everything hurt too much for him to be worried about food. Alison looked on disapprovingly, but thankfully didn't comment on his lack of appetite.

"You should get some rest, Carter," she said instead, her eyes softening. "We don't know when the next attack is going to come, or what it'll bring. Try to get some shut-eye while you can."

It was only early afternoon, but Jack had to admit that he _was_ tired. A quick nap actually sounded like an excellent idea. He could already feel his eyes drooping as his exhausted body seemed to agree with that assessment. He lay his head on the back of the couch and let out as deep a breath as his sore ribs would allow.

"Okay," Jack replied. Then he tried for an easy grin that he wasn't sure he'd pulled off. "Just don't take this as an opportunity to go through all my stuff."

Alison gave him a tired smile back. "Wouldn't dream of it, Carter. Wouldn't dream of it."

* * *

 **A/N –** So, this chapter has given you a few more answers, but a few more questions as well. At least there isn't a cliff-hanger this time (sorry about that, by the way). Hopefully the next chapter won't be too far away, although for now I'd love to hear your thoughts on the story so far, so please do review if you can spare a minute or two of your time. Otherwise, and until next time, thanks for reading!


	4. Part Four

**Disclaimer** : ' **A Town Called Eureka' doesn't belong to me, and neither do the characters who live in said fictional town. Obviously.**

 **A/N** : Hello one and all, and thank you so much for your continuing support for this story - it means a lot! This chapter was a lot of fun to write - particularly one scene involving Jack and some very strong medication. I won't say any more now, but I do hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. And with that in mind, on with the story...

* * *

 **~ Hurt and Hope ~**

 **Part Four**

* * *

Alison frowned as she watched Carter fall into what she was sure would be an uneasy sleep. She could see his limbs faintly shaking, twitching and jerking slightly, even as he slipped into unconsciousness, and it made him look even more like the sick man she knew he was. In fact, he looked a lot worse now than he had when they'd first arrived at his house, and that was saying something, since he'd looked nothing short of terrible earlier.

She looked more closely at him as he slept on, taking advantage of the fact that for once, Carter wasn't awake enough to notice. She didn't often catch him unawares; he was too good at his job for that. Of course in this case, she wished it could be under different circumstances.

Alison sighed and ran a hand through her hair. S.A.R.A.H. was quiet, and she suddenly felt very alone and unprepared for what they were dealing with. Not much tested her anymore - she had been at G.D. too long to be surprised much these days - but when it involved pain and someone she cared about…

"Damn," she muttered to herself as she watched Carter sleep. He had a nasty cut above his right eyebrow that had thankfully stopped bleeding, and he had a number of other bruises covering his starkly pale face. Looking more closely, Alison noticed that he also had a thin splattering of stubble across his jaw, which told her that he hadn't bothered to shave that morning.

That alone would have been a warning sign if only she had taken the time to notice it. Carter was usually a careful, tidy man, and he always seemed to take the time to project that onto his Sheriff image. The fact that he hadn't this morning told Alison that perhaps he was starting to question that role altogether.

Which, she told herself as she watched him grimace in his sleep, was almost entirely her fault.

Shaking herself slightly in an attempt to pull herself out of her guilty yet ultimately useless thoughts, Alison stood up and rubbed a hand across her face. She had to focus. Carter was counting on her, and this time she was _not_ going to let him down.

"S.A.R.A.H," she called to the house. "Can you draw me up a copy of Carter's full medical history, including everything you can access from before he arrived in Eureka?"

" _Of course, Dr Blake,"_ S.A.R.A.H. replied dutifully.

"Also, can you send a coded message over to Dr Fleinhart," Alison added. Dr Fleinhart was the most qualified of the medical personnel currently on duty at G.D., and she knew she would need his assistance sooner rather than later. "I'll need him and a couple of the nurses to come here with as much medical equipment as they can carry, as soon as they can. Carter's stable enough for now, but I'm not equipped to deal with something like a gunshot wound, especially if he's going to be stubborn and refuse to go back to G.D."

Alison scowled, but the truth was that she understood why he was so reluctant to have any involvement with G.D. at the moment, and a part of her could even respect him for it. The other part, of course, thought he was being a stubborn idiot, but she knew better than to say that out loud with everything else that was going on…

" _The message has been relayed as requested, Dr Blake,"_ S.A.R.A.H. said a moment later, breaking into her thoughts. _"Dr Fleinhart has sent his assurances that he will endeavour to get here as soon as humanly possible. I have also ensured that he and his staff know not to mention their current assignment to anyone. I do not believe Sheriff Carter would appreciate the fuss if news of his condition got out."_

"Good," Alison said, her gaze dropped back down to Jack's unconscious face. "That's good."

" _I have also compiled a list of Sheriff Carter's previous injuries, as you requested,"_ the smart house continued. _"It is currently downloading onto your tablet, and will be available to you momentarily."_

"Thanks, S.A.R.A.H.," Alison replied, "Oh, and until we can get the proper equipment here, would you mind keeping an eye on Carter's vitals for me?"

" _I already am, Dr Blake,"_ S.A.R.A.H. replied immediately, and if a house could've sounded offended at a suggestion, Alison knew S.A.R.A.H. would have.

"Sorry, S.A.R.A.H.," Alison placated, not sure why she was apologising to a house. "I didn't mean to suggest that you were being negligent. I'm just tired. I know you care about Carter and I know you're doing your best for him."

" _As are you, Dr Blake,"_ the smart house replied after a brief pause. Alison wondered if that meant she'd been forgiven.

"Thanks, Sarah," she replied.

" _I know you care about the Sheriff too,"_ S.A.R.A.H. continued. _"I am sure you will continue to do your best to rectify his current condition."_

Of course, Alison conceded silently. The trouble was, with how little they knew about Carter's condition and how far away they were from fixing it, and how much pain he was already in, she wasn't sure her best was going to be good enough this time.

Even a man like Carter had a limit. She wondered if he was close to reaching it. And what it would take for him to finally fall over the edge.

* * *

"Allie?" came a voice from her side a couple of hours later.

"Hmm?" she murmured, still focused on the medical reports she was reading. She rubbed at her face and sighed. There were a lot of them, a lot more than she had expected. In fact she had a bad feeling about it all

"How's everything here?" Nathan said as he joined her at dining room table. He nodded towards Carter, who was still lying on the couch. "How's Carter doing?"

There was quite a bit more equipment around the Sherriff now, but they hadn't seen the point in moving him from his position on the couch. Carter would be in pain no matter where he lay down – even with all the medication floating through his system - and he'd seemed to be at least relatively comfortable where he was.

Waking him up just to get him to go upstairs to his bed hadn't really seemed worth it in the grand scheme of things.

"No change," Alison informed Nathan, referring to Carter's condition. "I've got Dr Fleinhart and his staff monitoring Carter at the moment. He's still sleeping but there's been no signs of any further energy surges. How about on your end?"

"No luck," Nathan told her with a shrug, but she knew that despite the nonchalant way he delivered the words, it bothered him that he couldn't solve this.

"Have you heard from Jo and Fargo?" she asked, since she'd been a little out of the loop for the last couple of hours.

"Jenkins wasn't at home," he told her. Alison's face fell, but she should've known it wouldn't be that easy. "Looks like he's done a runner, although Jo's still looking."

"Damn," Alison cursed. Then she sighed and ran a hand through her hair. Nathan moved his chair closer to hers and placed a hand on her shoulder. Then he gestured down to all the papers she had in front of her.

"So what's all this?" he asked. "Your tablet broken?"

"No," she replied. "I'm just trying to work out a timeline of Carter's injuries."

"Why?" Nathan asked with a frown. "I thought it didn't matter?"

"It might," Alison replied, unwilling to admit that it was mainly because her suspicions about Carter's past were driving her mad. "The truth is, we have no idea what matters and what doesn't."

Nathan looked at her, and she knew he didn't quite buy that explanation. "That's true I suppose, but I'm getting the impression that there's more to it than that."

Alison sighed again. He knew her too well…

"Something's…off," she told him quietly, careful to keep her voice down so that no one else could hear, especially Carter. Of course he was still asleep – S.A.R.A.H. had promised that she would notify her as soon as he woke up - and the medical staff were too busy monitoring the equipment to pay any attention to a private conversation between a woman and her fiancé, but Alison still didn't want to risk it.

"What do you mean, Allie?" Nathan prompted, his voice hushed and his frown deepening.

"His medical history," Alison told him quietly. "I've put it in order, oldest to newest. Just look at it, Nathan."

Nathan did, brow furrowed. It took him a few minutes to put it together.

"He had a lot of injuries when he was a kid," Nathan commented. She could almost see his brain working, coming to the same conclusion she had. "Almost as many as he's had as an adult."

"Too many to be considered normal, that's for sure," Alison replied.

"What are you saying?" Nathan asked with an even deeper frown. "You think Carter was bullied as kid? Somehow I find that hard to believe – "

"Not bullied," Alison said with a shake of her head. She took a deep breath. "I think it's something…more than that. Nathan, I think he was abused."

* * *

Jack woke to the sound of humming.

It was a woman's voice, sweet and soft, and even though he didn't recognise the tune, Jack allowed it to lull him back to consciousness. It was nice, he thought absently, his mind still a little clouded by the remnants of a drug-induced sleep. He couldn't remember anyone singing to him before…

His eyes twitched from beneath his eyelids and he moved his hand almost instinctively towards the sound of the voice. His arm felt heavy, almost like it didn't belong to him, but he persevered. He wanted to reach out to her, but he didn't know where she was…

Almost in answer to his thoughts, the humming stopped, but the voice was still there…

"Carter," she said. "Come on, Carter. Wake up for me."

He wanted to; he wanted to do whatever voice asked of him, but it wasn't that easy. His eyelids felt as heavy as the rest of his body, and just wouldn't obey him. Jack felt a fluttering of panic work its way up through his chest. He did _not_ like being out of control…

"Carter, calm down," the sweet voice said, but Jack wanted to tell the voice to shut up this time. He clenched his fists and settled for a frustrated groan instead.

"Easy, Carter," the voice soothed. He felt a wet cloth run gently across his forehead and he leaned into the touch. "You're going to be okay. We've got you on a new regimen of drugs and they're probably making you feel a little loopy right now, but I promise you'll be okay. You're safe here."

Drugs? Well that explained why he couldn't seem to think straight, and why his body wasn't really responding to him. Jack tried to swallow but his mouth felt like sandpaper.

"Water?" he asked, his voice so hoarse he could barely choke the words out.

The sweet voice must have understood him though, because it wasn't long before he could feel a straw poking at his mouth. He took a drink and began to feel a little more human as the cool liquid soothed his throat.

"Thanks," he muttered, eyes still closed.

"You're welcome," she replied. "Do you think you can open your eyes for me?"

Jack groaned. He didn't know why, but he had a feeling that opening his eyes would be a bad idea. He liked the darkness. When he was asleep, he didn't hurt.

Except he didn't really hurt at the moment either, which probably meant it was safe to wake up. He wondered exactly what drugs he was on…

"Come on, Jack," the voice cajoled.

"Fine," he muttered. Then he took a breath and focused all his energy on his eye lids. On forcing them open…

The light burst in and he blinked rapidly. It didn't help much. Everything looked blurry, but he knew it would take a few seconds for his eyes to adjust. There was a shape in front of him a person. Jack blinked hard, and waited for a few seconds more. If he could just focus...

And then, Alison Blake's face swam into view.

"Hey," he said, smiling goofily. Damn, the drugs were definitely making him loopy. He was always happy to see her of course, but usually he was much better at hiding it. God, he hoped Stark wasn't around to see this.

"Hi," she replied, smiling back.

He swallowed, but his throat still felt sore, like he was starting to come down with something. He frowned. "What time is it?"

"Midnight," Alison replied after checking her watch. She looked a little surprised as well, and he wondered what she had been doing to lose track of the time.

"It's late," Jack commented quietly, blinking slowly as his eyes began to adjust. "Zoe?"

"She's staying at a friend's house," Alison assured him.

"Not a boy's house though?" Jack mumbled, closing his eyes briefly then forcing them open.

"No," Alison replied and he noticed the ghost of a smile of her face. "She's staying at one of her _girl_ friend's houses. I checked."

"Good," Jack muttered. He had enough to worry about than his teenage daughter acting like…well, like a teenager.

"How are you feeling?" Alison asked him.

"M'good," he mumbled, and he was, by and large. He tried to shift, to move himself upright, but he couldn't seem to manage much more than a twitch. His body didn't hurt at all –thanks to whatever drugs he was currently on - but he also wasn't sure he had much control over it either. In fact he had a feeling that he was so numb that if he even tried to stand up, he'd end up on his ass again within a few seconds.

He grinned at the image, not entirely sure why.

"You enjoying the drugs there, Carter?" Alison commented with a more genuine smile.

"Mmm," Jack hummed. It _was_ a nice buzz…

"Well, the drugs, quite apart from helping you with the pain, seem to be keeping the flashes at bay," Alison told him. "We have no idea why, but Dr Flienhart is back at the lab trying to isolate the different elements in order to test them against the weapon itself. We're hoping that if we can isolate the chemical, we can use it to form, for want of a better word, an antidote."

"He should go to sleep," Jack said. "It's late."

He wasn't sure he understood much of what she had just told him, and he knew the drugs he was on were only partly to blame. But it _was_ late, and he wasn't sure he was worth losing any sleep over. As painful as his injuries were, he could handle it – he'd been through it all before after all, and at least this time he had the good drugs to help him get a handle on it.

"Right, Carter," Alison said with a smile. He had a feeling she was humouring him.

"You should go to sleep too," he told her, eyes falling shut. He opened them again, but it was getting harder and harder. The drugs gave him a nice buzz, but they were also making it very difficult to stay awake…

"I will," she told him, and even though he knew she was lying, he didn't have the energy to argue with her. "Maybe you should think about taking your own advice."

"M'tired," he told her, eye falling shut. This time he didn't even bother trying to open them again.

"Get some rest, Carter," she told him softly, gently patting his uninjured. "We've got this covered, okay?"

"Okay," he mumbled.

And then, only a moment later, he was gone.

* * *

"Aw, how sweet," Nathan said as he helped her to her feet. "We should get him high more often."

Alison didn't see the funny side. "We can't keep him drugged up indefinitely, Nathan. The medication we've got him on at the moment has some serious side effects. Kidney failure for one. The longer we keep him on it, the higher the risk. As it is, we'll have to take him off the drugs for a bit tomorrow, just to make sure his body doesn't build up a tolerance to it. At the moment, it's the only thing that's stopping any of the more serious injuries from making an appearance." She fixed her gaze on him. "We need to find a solution, and we need to find it fast."

"We will, Allie," Nathan said softly, pulling her into a gentle hug. She sighed against his chest, and allowed some of her stress to pass onto his strong shoulders.

"I really am tired," she told him. She pulled away slightly and glanced back at the slumbering Sheriff. "How is it that Carter always notices things like that, even when he's drugged up to the gills on the strongest pain meds we've got?"

"Annoying, isn't it?" Nathan replied, sounding grudgingly impressed.

That made her smile, which was nothing short of a miracle at the moment.

"You two really aren't all that different, you know?" she told him. "If you could just stop bickering for one minute, you might actually grow to like each other."

Nathan scoffed. "Right, and once he's all better we'll go skipping off into the sunset together."

"Oh, shut up," she told him with a smile, punching him playfully in the arm.

Nathan smiled as well. It felt good, smiling. Alison hadn't smiled much in the last few hours.

"We'll fix this, Allie," Nathan told her, his expression turning serious once again. "We have access to some of the greatest minds in the world, including ours. And Carter…well, Carter may not be a genius, but he is stubborn. He'll stick it out long enough for us to find a solution."

"I hope you're right," she told him.

"When am I ever wrong?" he replied with a smirk, even they both knew he was as capable of being wrong as anyone else.

Alison glanced back at Carter. She really hoped this wasn't one of those times…

"Listen, Allie," Stark said, moving closer to her. "Carter's right. You really should get some rest."

"I can't," she told him.

"Yes, you can," he replied firmly. "Fleinhart's nurses are due back on shift any minute. When they get here, they'll watch over Carter. And you can get some rest."

"But I'm afraid…Nathan, what if something happens and I'm not here?" she asked quietly.

"They'll call," he told her. "Look, there's nothing you can do now anyway. What _will_ help is a good night's sleep so that you can look things with a fresh mind in the morning."

She sighed, long and hard. "Fine. You're right. I just…it's hard, seeing him like this."

"We'll fix it," Nathan repeated, taking her hand.

Instead of replying, Alison a long look at Carter's battered and bruised form. Deep down she knew Nathan was right. They had access to some of the greatest minds and technologies the world had to offer. They _would_ fix this.

She only hoped that their 'fix' didn't come too late.

* * *

 **A/N -** So, still enjoying the story? Everyone still in character? Plot still plausible? If you can spare a minute, I'd love to hear from you! Just a heads up, might take a bit longer to get the next chapter up, but I am working on it, and I'll try to get it posted as quickly as I can. Until then, and as always, thanks for reading!


	5. Part Five

**Disclaimer** : ' **A Town Called Eureka' doesn't belong to me, and neither do the characters who live in said fictional town. Obviously.**

 **A/N** : Wow, so it's been a while, hasn't it? I'm _so_ sorry, but I haven't felt much up to writing lately for reasons that I'm not going to go into right now. Suffice it to say, I wasn't in a good place. I'm back now though, and hopefully with a chapter you'll all like. Thank you for your continuing support in the form of reviews, favourites and follows. I appreciate each and every one of them (and in turn, you). Anyway, I hope I can continue to live up to your high expectations. This chapter is a little bit of a filler, but the plot does move along a bit as well. I hope you like it - enjoy!

* * *

 **~ Hurt and Hope ~**

 **Part Five**

* * *

Alison was exhausted.

It was a new day, and she had at least managed to catch a few hours of sleep last night after Nathan had convinced her to go home, but she still felt that both her body and mind were lagging behind her usual high standards. So much for fresh eyes…

Still, Carter had it worse, she reminded herself as she made her way into the bunker that contained his smart house. He had it _much_ worse. Dr Fleinhart and his team had been taking good care of him – even healing some of the more minor injuries using the state-of-the-art technology they had on hand at G.D. By all accounts Carter hadn't suffered any further incidents since yesterday either, but since they hadn't come up with any kind of theory of exactly _what_ it was that was doing this to him, and since they definitely hadn't worked out a permanent solution to it - beyond keeping him drugged up to the gills of course - she had a terrible feeling that things weren't stay that way for very long…

"S.A.R.A.H." she said tiredly as she reached the metal door. She had her tablet in her hand, her email box full of work she was already behind with. "Door, please."

The door opened, and Alison cautiously made her way in, head down as she tapped away on her tablet, trying - mostly in vain - to catch up on some of the various reports that had built up in the last couple of days, her feet automatically taking her straight to the couch where she'd left Carter late last night.

Except, when she finally arrived, he wasn't there. The couch was empty.

She looked around frantically, her nerves already a little frayed by the events of the last day or so. She saw one of his nurses sitting on a chair by the couch, silently reading through a medical chart. The woman had barely looked up at her entrance.

Alison ignored her as well. She could see the equipment that had been monitoring Carter, still beeping away despite the fact that the patient wasn't even there. She could even see the blanket she had put over his unconscious body last night before she had left with Nathan. Everything was where it should be.

Except, of course, for Carter.

She didn't give up of course; it wasn't in her nature, and logically she knew Carter couldn't have gone far. Her eyes scanned the rest of the room, left to right, looking for anything out of order, and it wasn't long before she found it.

Carter. He was standing by the dining room table, looking through the paperwork detailing the timeline of his injuries. Even from a distance, Alison could tell by his stooped shoulders that he wasn't happy.

Damn.

"Carter?" she asked quietly, looking back at the nurse who should have been looking after him and making sure he behaved. Someone was going to find themselves in a whole heap of trouble…

Alison shook herself slightly and focused back on more immediate concerns. Carter was just stood there, wearing only loose pyjama bottoms and socks – chest bare except for the tight bandages holding his ribs still – and he was staring down at all the papers on the dining room table. When she had left late last night, she hadn't even thought to clear them away. Damn…

She moved closer, feeling oddly like she was approaching a wild animal.

"What's all this?" he asked, his voice oddly level as she came to stand beside him. Alison felt dread rise up in her stomach.

"Carter, what are you doing up?" she asked. He looked pale, shaky. "You shouldn't – "

"I needed to use the bathroom," Jack replied with a shrug, although he was careful not to jostle his bandaged chest too much. "Not ready to use a bedpan just yet, not in my own house at least." He took a deep, steadying breath. "Anyway, you didn't answer my question. What's all this?"

Alison sighed and decided to go with a half-truth. "Research."

"About me?"

"About your injuries," Alison amended. "You did say I could access your records. This is all the information S.A.R.A.H. was able to gather, both from your time in Eureka, and from…before."

"Ah," Jack replied as he finally turned to face her. His expression was unreadable. "And you couldn't read it on your tablet because…?"

Alison shrugged. "I may be a scientist, Carter, but even I can appreciate the benefits of reading cold, hard paper instead of a screen."

"I guess that makes sense," Jack replied. "So, what did you find out? Anything I missed off before?"

He was testing her, she realised. He must've known that she would put two and two together about his injuries as a kid, and he was testing her to see how she reacted. The trouble was, she had no idea how he _wanted_ her to react. She looked at him closely, and in the end, she decided to go with the truth.

"There were quite a lot of childhood injuries that you neglected to mention before," Alison replied evenly. Carter barely twitched at the answer, but Alison took that to be a good sign. Or at least, not a bad one…

Jack shrugged again. "Not important. They weren't serious."

"Five broken bones, all between the ages of ten and fifteen," Alison countered. "Three concussions. I would call that serious, Carter."

"Accidents," he replied calmly, although there was a thin sheen of sweat on his pale face, and she could see his hands shaking. "I was a clumsy kid."

"No, you weren't," she replied with a shake of her head. She wouldn't force him to tell her the truth, but she wouldn't accept a lie either.

"No," he agreed, his eyes meeting hers. "I guess I wasn't."

There was a challenge there, and it wasn't one that she felt either of them were ready to take on. Not now, not with Carter still battered and bruised and due another attack at any minute. The drugs would be starting to wear off now, and even apart from his growing pain, the likelihood that he would experience another attack was high.

Anyway, she wasn't entirely sure his past was any of her business. Alison sighed, and felt her desire to know more flee from her almost completely. As a doctor, she'd dealt with quite a few cases of abuse, so she wasn't exactly inexperienced in the matter, but all of those had involved children.

Carter was an adult. And for all she knew, he was an adult who had come to terms with his past a long time ago - something that was a strong possibility since he seemed fairly well-adjusted. She also knew he would prefer it if she didn't pry. He was a private person, and with the way she had been acting lately, she found she couldn't blame him from not wanting to confide in her something that was clearly so deeply personal to him.

Suddenly she felt ashamed that she had pried as much as she had.

"I won't ask," she told him before he could say anything further. She made her way over to the table and began to gather up all the paperwork.

"You won't?" he asked, his expression disbelieving. Clearly he'd expected her to push it now that she knew, and that thought made her sad. Had she really been that bad of a friend to him recently…?

"No, I won't," she replied, and she knew it was the truth. "It's…not my business. If you want to talk about it, I'm here to listen. Any time, day or night. I won't judge, I'll just listen. But Carter…I won't ask. And I certainly won't force you to tell me. I'm sorry I ever gave you the impression that I would. I know what injuries to prepare for now. That's all I need to know."

He sighed heavily, and ran his uninjured hand over his face.

"Okay," he sighed. "I mean…that's good."

"Come on," she said, taking his arm. "Let's get you back to the couch. You shouldn't be up and about anyway."

"I'm not a baby," he grumbled, but he allowed her to lead him back to the living area anyway.

"I know you're not, Carter," she told him. "But you _are_ a bad patient."

"Kelly doesn't think so," he told her, gesturing towards the nurse sitting on a chair reading some notes.

"Kelly should know better," Alison said pointedly. "The drugs you're on are going to start wearing off soon, Carter, and you need to be monitored when they do because that's when you're likely to experience another attack. We need to be ready this time."

"I'm sorry, Dr Blake," the nurse said, flushing slightly. "He said he felt fine, and I had these notes to run through before tomorrow's rotation – "

"It's okay," Alison said, even though really it wasn't. "I'm here now, so I can cover until the next shift. You can take off now if you want, Kelly."

It wasn't really a suggestion, and thankfully Kelly picked up on that.

The nurse looked relieved and shame-faced in equal measure. "Thank you, Dr Blake. I'll see you again soon, Sherriff."

"No offence, Kelly, but I hope not," Carter replied, holding his hand against his ribs. He grimaced as he finally sank back down onto the couch. He didn't lie down though, which gave Alison some measure of comfort. If he'd been really upset with her, he would've just feigned sleep until she took the hint and went away.

"Oh, right," Kelly replied, flushing even more as she glanced down at Carter. Alison was beginning to wonder if the young woman had a crush of their town sherriff…

"I'm sure Dr Fleinhart will think of something…" the nurse began, definitely flustered. Oh, she definitely had a crush, the poor woman…

Alison decided to take pity on her. "Of course he will, Kelly. But for now, go and get some rest. I can manage from here."

"Well, if you're sure," Kelly said, glancing at Carter. Carter's reassuring smile was so unconvincing that Alison nearly rolled her eyes, but it seemed to be enough for Kelly. She smiled back at him and after asking S.A.R.A.H. to open the door, left without another comment.

"So, do you really think Dr Fleinhart will think of something?" Carter said as soon as the door had closed behind the young woman, the fake smile immediately dropping from his face.

Alison sighed and took a seat by the couch. "The truth is, I don't know. I _hope_ he can. He's the best in his field, so if anyone can find a solution, he can."

"But if he doesn't, what'll happen to me?" Carter asked. "Will this just keep happening until one of my old injuries finally kills me?"

"I won't let that happen," Alison told him carefully. "I won't, Carter."

"What aren't you saying?" Carter asked, clearly picking up on her hesitation. "Come on, Alison. Tell me."

She sighed again. " _If_ the worst happens…I don't think it will be one injury that kills you. We have the equipment here to deal with even the more serious ones, but your system is already becoming overloaded. The more it happens, and the more injuries that appear…"

"Oh, right."

"It will eventually become more than your body can handle," Alison finished. Then she looked at him pointedly, her expression fierce. "But Carter, we're not going to let that happen."

"Right," Carter repeated unconvincingly. Suddenly it was very important to Alison that he understood just how much they cared about him; just how much they will willing to do to fix this.

"Dr Fleinhart has been working round the clock," she told him. "Nathan too, believe it or not. He's been examining the weapon left behind by Todd, trying to replicate the results. When he asked for volunteers to act as test subjects for him, he had a line round the block."

"You didn't – "

"We haven't told anyone what's going on," Alison reassured him. "We just told them that _something_ happened to you, and that the tests are going to help. That was enough for them to want to volunteer."

"Oh," Carter repeated. He looked surprised. "I didn't think…"

"You mean a lot to people here, Carter," she told him, leaning forward to squeeze his hand. "We don't want to lose you."

"Uh…" he cleared his throat. "Well…thanks."

"It's the least we can do to pay you back for everything you've done for us," she told him seriously. It was her way at acknowledging the crappy way she'd been treating him recently without making him wildly uncomfortable.

"Thanks," he repeated hoarsely, an uncertain look on his face. He seemed to be taking in her words though, which was all she could really expect from him.

"You should probably call Zoe though," Alison said. "I know you don't want to tell her what's going on, but she deserves to know. Rumours spread fast in Eureka and you don't want her hearing the wrong ones."

"I will," he agreed reluctantly. "She'll be banging on the door within the hour though, you realise that?"

"I like her, Carter," Alison told him. "She's a good kid, and smart too. She's not going to get in the way."

"I just don't want to worry her," Carter said, fiddling with a loose thread on his pyjama pants.

"She'll be worried either way," Alison told him. "At least this way she can help to keep you under control."

"I'm not _that_ bad a patient," Carter retorted but there was a flicker of amusement on his face. It was gone in a second, but it was enough for Alison.

"Right," Alison deadpanned.

"Like you'd be any better," he shot back. Alison didn't reply, mainly because she couldn't really argue with that.

"Look, it won't be for long," she told him instead. "Dr Fleinhart and Nathan will come up with someone soon, I'm sure of it. And I know that Jo and Fargo are hoping to track down Todd today. They didn't have much luck at his house, but there were going to check out a cabin this morning. In fact," she paused glancing at her watch, "They're probably already on their way…"

* * *

"Come on then, Fargo, let's get this over with," Jo growled, shutting off the engine of her jeep after what had been a largely uncomfortable and entirely silent journey. Fargo gulped, but dutifully undid his seatbelt and opened his door. It was a cold, breezy morning, the wind rustling through the trees on either side of the road, but Fargo didn't dare ask Jo to wait while he put on his coat.

Pissing Jo off was definitely _not_ a good idea right now…

They'd arrived at Dr Jenkin's house yesterday afternoon to find it empty; not just of life, but of any sign that anyone had lived there in a long, long time. Jo had broken the door down anyway, and had turned the whole place upside down in what Fargo could only assume was a fit of desperation, but it still hadn't got them further in working out where Jenkins was.

All they knew for sure was that he wasn't at home.

It was only when the neighbour – who had come to investigate the noise - mentioned that Jenkins had been known to periodically stay at a cabin in the woods that Jo's mood had lifted somewhat, although she still hadn't been any type of mood to chat. Especially since they had no idea where the cabin was. Or who owned it. Or if Jenkins was even there or not…

"Fargo!"

He jumped in spite of himself, the loud noise quickly pulling him back to the present. Jo was already halfway down the pathway to the cabin, but there was no way in hell he was going to be left behind. Carter had tasked him with being Jo's backup, and backup he was going to be.

Fargo puffed out his chest and tried to ignore his own creeping fear as he jogged off after Jo. She was nearly at the cabin now and her pace had slowed considerably, allowing him the chance to gain some ground on her. Pushing down as surge of adrenaline at the thought of what might happen once he caught up with her, he wondered what she could see. Was Jenkins there? Could she see any sign of him yet? Did she have a plan for when she did?

Even if she didn't, Fargo knew he would stay by her side. They all thought he was irresponsible, but this time he was not going to let her – and the Sherriff – down.

After their miserable failure of an afternoon yesterday, Jo had headed straight back to the Sherriff's office so that she could try and track down where Todd's cabin might be. Without even a hint of hesitation, Fargo had gone with her, despite the fact that he didn't have an investigative bone in his body. Oh, he was a scientist, so he knew how to problem-solve and sort through data in a logical way, but in law enforcement they dealt with the one thing he had never quite mastered…

People.

Still, he had gone with her, and he had tried his best to be a good sounding board for her, and when she had finally discovered where the cabin was – it actually belonged to a fellow scientist in Jenkins' department - he had been there to remind her that it was ten minutes to midnight, and that it was probably a bit late – and dark – to go raiding cabins, even for someone with Jo's skills and experience.

They'd argued for a while then, but Fargo - miraculously – had actually won in the end, albeit only when he had told her that the Sherriff would be pissed off if she got herself hurt trying to save him. She'd told him then that it was what partners did for each other, but her voice had been a little shaky, a little tired, and it hadn't taken much effort on his part after that to convince to head out first thing in the morning instead.

Backing down without any threat of physical violence had been a little out of character for Jo to say the least, but Fargo supposed he couldn't blame her. He was worried about the Sherriff too…

"Fargo! Get your ass over here!" Jo called, jerking him back to the present.

"Coming!" he called back breathlessly, unsure how loudly he should speak. They weren't quite at the cabin yet, but he wondered if they should be a little more discrete so that they didn't spook Jenkins.

Jo didn't seem too bothered about making noise though, and he wondered exactly what that meant. Did she want Todd to know they were coming? Did she want to start a firefight? He was starting to get a bad feeling that maybe, just maybe, that was _exactly_ what the headstrong Deputy Sherriff wanted.

An excuse to fight.

An excuse to get revenge.

* * *

 **A/N -** So things are bubbling along nicely, although not too slowly I hope? Please tell me you're still interested in this story?

Oh, before you go I just wanted to make a quick note - I know I've made quite a few references to Carter's less-than-stellar past in this chapter, but I just wanted to make it clear that his childhood isn't going to form the main focus of this story. I'm interested in it of course, and I do plan to explore it further, but I'm actually much more interested in the interactions between Alison and Carter, and above all else, their friendship (I'm keeping it as close to canon as possible, so they won't be getting together in my story, although the potential will always be there). I hope you don't mind? Anyway, that's enough of me rambling on. I hope you liked this chapter. If so, please let me know - I'd love to hear from you! For now though, and until next time, thanks for reading!


	6. Part Six

**Disclaimer** : ' **A Town Called Eureka' doesn't belong to me, and neither do the characters who live in said fictional town. Obviously.**

 **A/N –** Hello one and all, and welcome back t this little story of mine. Thank you so much for all your encouragement so far – I'm really enjoying writing this story at the moment, and I hope you're enjoying reading too. This chapter finally explores Carter's past, and I must say, I'm a little nervous with how it's turned out. If you can spare a minute or two, please let me know what you think. For now though, please read on…

* * *

 **~ Hurt and Hope ~**

 **Part Six**

* * *

"Well, Zoe's on her way," Jack told Allison with weary sigh as he made his way slowly back towards the couch. He'd made the call in private – well, as private as it could be in a house that listened in on everything he did - unsure exactly how his daughter would react. Of course, he needn't have worried. Zoe was a lot more mature than he'd been at that age. Hell, she was a lot more mature that he was now, at least most of the time…

"Okay," Allison replied with a nod as he shuffled back to the sofa and sat down. "You feeling okay, Carter? Any pain?"

Carter held his good hand to his ribs and tried to suppress a wince.

"I wouldn't mind some more of those painkillers you had me on yesterday," Jack tried, despite knowing full well that he couldn't have any. It beat answering the question honestly though. He didn't know why, but things between him and Allison had started to feel…off.

They hadn't really been on good terms for a while now, although neither had ever commented on their issues explicitly until the incident. Jack frowned to himself. It felt worse now though; or at least different. He was sure it had something to do with what she'd discovered about his past, but it was hard for him to put his finger on what it was exactly. Was it her? Was it him? Both of them?

As expected, in response to the painkillers suggestion, Allison just shook her head. "Afraid not, Carter. We need to let the drugs get fully out of your system before it's safe for you to take any more."

"Fine," he muttered, shifting slightly as he tried to fine a comfortable position on the couch. "Guess I'll have to soldier on then."

He'd known that already of course, but he had hoped she would be able to give his sometime to take the edge off, just enough so that he could hide the majority of his injuries from his daughter. He hated upsetting her.

"Does Zoe know?" Allison asked suddenly, almost as if the thought had made its way to her mouth without her knowledge.

Jack frowned. "About the injuries?"

Allison eyes dropped. "No…er, I was actually referring to the _cause_ of your injuries."

Jack closed his mouth, his lips forming a thin line. She'd promised him she wouldn't make him talk.

"I'm guessing you're talking about the first time around?" he clarified carefully, heart beating loudly in his chest.

"Yes," she confirmed. "I said I wouldn't ask about details, and I won't, but…" She trailed off, then seemed to find her nerve again. "Have you ever…?"

"Of course I haven't talked about it with her," Jack replied angrily. A part of him knew the anger wasn't justified, but a larger part of him revelled in the feeling. He _wanted_ to be angry, if only to avoid feeling anything else. "Why the hell would I do that?"

"Didn't she ever meet…?"

"Look, stop it," Jack interrupted, his anger bubbling just below the surface now. She'd told him that she wouldn't ask about his past, and yet here she was, probing like a second-rate shrink. Jack hated shrinks. He took a deep breath and continued. "I'm sorry, but you don't know what you're talking about. It's none of your business, okay?"

She seemed a little taken aback by his sudden outburst, but nodded anyway. "Of course. I'm sorry, Carter."

Jack just nodded, and then, in an attempt to find a distraction, reached for the TV remote. Hopefully there was a baseball game on somewhere…

At the same time, Allison sighed and reached for her reports. She'd clearly understood his not so subtle hint to back off, and was willing to give him some space. Not much, since she wasn't willing to leave him alone in the literal sense, but he would take what he could get.

Jack sighed and leaned back against the couch. A second-rate shrink would probably also say that he had major avoidance and anger issues, but he _really_ hated shrinks.

* * *

Ten minutes later, as the T.V. played quietly to itself in the background, Carter glanced subtly over to Alison, who had given up on the reports and had started to read a book in the chair beside his couch with far more concentration than the cheap thriller should have demanded from her high IQ. Jack frowned and tried not to take it personally. She was avoiding any conversations with him, that much was clear – and he supposed he couldn't exactly blame her for that - but that wasn't what was really bothering him. Or at least, it wasn't the only thing that was bothering him…

No, it was the fact that even in spite of the fact that she clearly didn't think he was very good company at the moment – something he couldn't really argue with given how quickly he'd snapped at her earlier - she'd decided to stay with him anyway, and he couldn't for the life of him work out why.

Jack sighed deeply, grimacing slightly when the action pulled at his still healing ribs. He pulled his gaze back to the T.V. but his slightly erratic thoughts remained on Allison, and on whatever the hell was going on between the two of them. She knew more about him than he'd ever planned for her to know – for anyone to know – and yet she wasn't pushing him on it. Oh, she'd tried to probe earlier, but even though he'd shut that down quickly, he knew he couldn't really stop her if she wanted to know. And yet, she'd kept her word. She wasn't making him talk about it. In fact, she was now clearly pretending that she hadn't even brought it up in the first place.

It was starting to drive him crazy.

Jack frowned and stared at the T.V., his thoughts a million miles away. If she didn't want to pry into his past, why the hell was she still here?

Yes, he knew she was his friend, and yes, he knew she had a medical background and that she'd be more than qualified to deal with his injuries, but really…didn't she have anything better to do than babysit him?

Admittedly, Kelly hadn't been the best caregiver either, but Jack was used to looking after himself. And he'd literally been through all these injuries before, so it wasn't like he couldn't handle it.

He knew he could because he already had.

Carter forced his attention back to the T.V. once again. Was he a project to her maybe? Clearly she thought he was pathetic – she was doing anything _but_ treat him normally at the minute, evidenced by the fact that in the last few minutes, she'd barely said one word to him, and her focus on her book had begun to border on slightly obsessive, and was almost one hundred percent fake.

Or maybe he was going through a medical curiosity that she wanted to study? He hadn't had any attacks for over a day now, but surely it was only a matter of time. The doc had told them to take him off the drugs that had been keeping the attacks at bay up until now. The next attack was expected any minute.

Jack sighed, and glanced at her again. He hated that he felt like this – like he didn't know her anymore. When had that happened? When had things changed?

His anger was growing again, and it only was partly down to Todd's ray gun thing. He was a big boy. If she wanted to be with Nathan instead of him, he could take it. He had taken it. He'd got over it already, or at least he would eventually. But he would be damned if he was going to let her pity him. More than anything, he hated pity. It made him feel weak. Pathetic. It made him feel like there was something wrong with him. That _she_ thought that there was something wrong with him.

Before he even knew what he was doing, Jack began to talk.

"It was my stepdad," Carter began suddenly, his voice hoarse. He paused, waiting for her to look up from her book, then continued. "He was…rough with me. When I was a kid. That's where I got most of the injuries from." Jack swallowed. "From him."

Jack's heart was beating in his chest. What the hell was he doing? He'd wanted to show her that there was nothing to pity, but he was starting to doubt himself now that he'd begun to talk. What was he trying to prove to her?

"Carter, are you sure you want to be talking about this with me now?" Alison said. Clearly she'd read some of his reluctance on his face and decided that he needed protecting from himself.

Anger bubbled up in him again, and he forced himself on.

"My dad died when I was eight," Jack paused, but Alison clearly didn't dare speak. "He was a beat cop. He was on patrol one night, and some asshole he was chasing…" Jack shook his head. "Anyway, he was shot. He died. Over what tuned out to be a miniscule amount of heroin."

"Carter…I'm so sorry."

Jack held his hand up. It was easier to keep going now that he'd started. "Anyway, when he died, my mom kind of…checked out for a while. And my dad's old friend from high school, Frank, started coming round more and more. At first, he was nice. At first, he helped us."

She was focused completely on him now, but Jack couldn't read her face. Couldn't tell if she was sad for him – as a friend would be - or feeling pity for him. There was a difference, and he hated that he couldn't tell which side she fell on. He wanted to blame his injuries, Todd's damn weapon, anything, but he knew damn well that it was more likely that they'd just grown too far apart over the last few weeks to know each other well enough anymore.

"And then?" Alison asked quietly.

"And then he and my mom got together," Jack replied. "And I didn't like it. He was living with us within a week. And then suddenly he wasn't so nice."

Jack swallowed, but he knew he had to keep going. He needed to show her that whatever she'd already figured out about his past, he was okay now.

He _was_ okay. He didn't need any pity. He definitely didn't need her to walk on eggshells around him.

He needed them to get back to normal.

"It started small," Jack continued. "He used to make comments. About my dad mostly. I think he was trying to get a rise out of me, you know…so that he had an excuse."

"An excuse to do what?" Alison asked. He briefly wondered if she'd ever done a psych rotation in med school…

"Hurt me," Jack replied bluntly.

"Carter…"

"It didn't take much," Jack told her. "The first time he hit me, I remember being so shocked that I didn't even cry. We were the only ones in the house, but I didn't even make a damn sound."

"God, Carter…" Alison said. He could see tears in her eyes, but he didn't understand why.

"The incidents weren't…frequent, exactly," Jack told her. "He didn't want my mom to know."

"And your sister?"

"He didn't hurt her," Jack told her quietly. "He liked her. It was just me he had a problem with."

"Why?" Alison asked. "You were just a kid."

Jack shrugged, but the action was anything but casual. "I looked like my dad. Turns out he didn't like my dad all that much after all. He just wanted to be with my mom but didn't have the balls to do anything about it until after my dad was dead." Jack scowled. "He was a coward."

"Was?" She asked. Jack almost smiled. Of course she'd picked up on that. They didn't call her a genius for nothing.

"He died about five years ago," Jack replied. "He was driving drunk and managed to wrap his truck around a tree. And no, I did not go to his funeral."

"I wouldn't have expected you to," Alison replied, a little bit of heat in her voice.

He wanted to tell her that she knew nothing about him, but that wasn't really true, he knew that. They might have grown apart, but she still knew him better than most people. That's what made it so frustrating that she kept taking the scientists' side over his. He wasn't an idiot. He knew how to do his damn job, so why the hell didn't she trust his judgement...?

"Carter…"

"I'm fine," he told her roughly. He clenched the fist on his right hand hard enough for the nails to dig into the skin.

"I wouldn't blame you if you weren't," she said quietly.

"I'm fine," he repeated. He paused to gather his thoughts. "Look, I get why you might be worried, but I'm not…screwed up about it. You can still trust me."

"I wasn't doubting that – "

"I wouldn't blame you if you were," he shot back at her.

"I wasn't," she repeated firmly. "I just…am I the only one you've ever told?"

Jack laughed, but it was a bitter sound. "No."

He wanted to tell her that she wasn't that special, but she was. He _hated_ that she was.

"Carter…"

"I hated him, and I hated that part of my life," Jack told her. "It screwed me up for a long time, and I don't like talking about it, even now, but it…it doesn't affect me like it used to."

She kept quiet, perhaps sensing that he had more to say. Maybe she did understand him after all. Maybe their friendship wasn't as broken as he had first believed. He decided to take a leap and trust her like he would have done before the whole thing with Nathan had happened.

"Look, I got help," he said quietly. "When I found out Abby was pregnant with Zoe, I knew I had to. I just…I grew up with that asshole, and I was so scared that I was going to turn into him. And I couldn't let that happen. I told myself…I promised myself, that if I ever even _thought_ about hurting my kid, I'd take my gun out and shoot myself."

"Carter…that's…"

"Yeah," he sighed, running a hand over his face. "Not exactly healthy. Abby pointed that out as well, when I told her. So I started seeing someone – a therapist – and it…helped. I wouldn't have let myself be alone with Zoe if it hadn't."

Even so, up until a couple of years ago, he'd always limited his contact with Zoe, and the reality of his old job was only part of the reason he'd missed so much of her growing up.

He probably would've resisted the idea of living alone with her in Eureka too – always worried about the conditioning buried deep at the back of his mind – but when Fargo had suggested a smart house, Carter had decided to give it a chance. At the end of the day, if he'd ever even looked like he was going to hurt her, he knew that S.A.R.A.H. would've stopped him. He hadn't actually thought he would– he couldn't imagine _ever_ wanting to hurt Zoe – but it had been a relief to have a back-up in place.

"I mean, don't get me wrong," Carter said. "I've still got issues. I get nightmares from time to time, and I don't really talk to my sister very often."

"You don't really talk about her either," Allison said, although there was no accusation in her voice. Just curiosity.

"You've never met my sister but she's…flaky," Carter said. "She just kind of…floats through life." He frowned. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I love her, but she's difficult to be around. She just does what she feels like doing – whatever her damn spirits tell her she should be doing – without really thinking about the consequences. And I know it's because as a kid, she wasn't like me. She could get away with anything, but when I…even if I'd done nothing wrong, I'd still be punished."

"That's…terrible," Allison said. "It must have been hard growing up like that. For both of you."

"She didn't know what was happening until I turned sixteen and she caught Frank beating on me," Carter sighed. "When she found out, she tried to help, tried to get me to come clean to our mom, but…"

"You resented her," Allison finished. "Your sister I mean."

"She didn't get it," Carter sighed. "She made it sound so easy, but it wasn't. Frank…he'd threatened to hurt them both if I told, and despite how often he lied, I believed him."

There didn't seem to be anything left to say after that. Carter could feel his heart beating loudly in his chest, but he felt…better. Lighter maybe.

"Why are you telling me this now?" Allison asked finally, breaking the silence. "Not that I don't appreciate it, but…"

He didn't want to tell her that he'd only starting talking because he'd been angry at her, so he decided to give her only part of the truth.

"You know anyway," Carter shrugged instead. "You're way too smart not to work it out based on my medical records. At least this way I have _some_ control over it. And well…you're my friend. I do trust you, even if I'm not sure you always trust me."

"I'm sorry, Carter," Alison replied. And he could tell that she was. Not just for his past, but for the fact that this incident had forced it out of him. "I do…I do want to be your friend, okay?"

Jack let out a deep breath. It felt like a turning point, and Jack felt relief flush through him. Whatever was going on between then, suddenly it felt as if it could be fixed.

"Then don't tell anyone," he said, although he knew it was unnecessary. He _could_ trust her. Still, he found himself continuing. "The town doesn't need to know that their Sheriff is screwed up from being beaten up by his step-father too many times as a kid – "

"Dad?" came a voice from the front door of his home. He hadn't heard it open.

He turned on the couch and came face to face with his daughter. He swallowed hard and tried to smile her, but one look in her eyes told him all he needed to know. She'd heard – if not everything - then definitely enough.

Jack closed his eyes, and tried to think of a way to explain his last comment. After a few seconds he realised he had nothing. He also realised that knowing Zoe, she wasn't going to let this go until she knew the rest. He was going to have to explain it all to her.

Dammit. He was going to have to tell her everything.

* * *

 **A/N –** So what did you think? This was just a little interlude in the main plot of the story (I haven't forgotten about Jo and Fargo, I promise), but I hope you liked it all the same. I realise I'm pushing it a little with Carter's past, but the show really does leave it completely open, and I've chosen to take it in this direction because I find the idea interesting. I hope you agree? If so (or if not), please let me know. I'd love to hear from you. Until next time, however, and as always, thank you for reading!


End file.
